


Ciderflower

by BabyChocoboAlchemist



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Love, M/M, Post Episode Prompto, Promnis Forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 02:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyChocoboAlchemist/pseuds/BabyChocoboAlchemist
Summary: "From the moment I met you, you've been responsible for giving me the strength I needed to overcome all obstacles. The wisdom I needed to become a better man. You are still my lighthouse. You've been through a storm no creature should ever have to witness, yet here you are, even more stunning than you were before. Alive with the colors, the vivacity, of my favorite season." Ignis speaks those words to a Prompto that has just escaped from the Hell created by Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, giving the photographer much-needed comfort-and a surprising truth.Post-Episode Prompto.





	Ciderflower

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Thank you for being here! :)
> 
> This was originally going to feature a broken, emotionally shattered Prompto, but my focus turned to Ignis finding strength in a friend-while the world sees the chef as this perfect, divinely powerful and all-knowing being. Plus, I wanted to show how Prompto can be as delicate as a feather and insanely strong at the same time. This features Autumn elements because I love the season, despite living where it's still Summer. I love Autumn's treasures and wanted to share them with you.
> 
> Unless work or personal life drags me down, I'll create a piece from Prompto's perspective. Just in case that doesn't come, thank you for enjoying this small piece of mine. :)

He was painted in gentle, bright orange and gold, sitting beside the flame that kept all of them warm throughout the night. It was strange, seeing him as bright and beautiful as the unfolding Autumn season, after he had just been torn out of Hell's blackest bowels, but there he was. Just as radiant as ever, smiling, trying so hard to hold onto whatever innocence the world had left. It was impossible not to be in awe of such strength, such kindness and purity.

Ignis watched Prompto from afar, just as he had done many times before. Just as he had during the world's waking hours, getting glimpses of an eager, shining young soul ready to capture the world in photographs. Just as he had during their many Chocobo rides, listening to his friend fill the world with song. Prompto himself was song, a melody made of Autumn riches and wonder, as proven by the light that encompassed their camp that night. Even though night had unfolded, carrying his soulmates into a deep sleep, Ignis came to realize that night wouldn't ever swallow the light whole. Their world may have been falling apart at the seams, their Prompto may have barely returned from Hell no soul should ever have to endure, but the light hadn't gone out. It wouldn't ever go out. The photographer sitting alongside their fire that night proved that. 

Ignis had a tendency to worry for no reason. Noctis called that particular tendency 'hyperactive worrying'. 

Ignis watched Prompto from their tent, rushes of relief flooding him as their precious Chocobo arranged photos in his scrapbook. Just a few hours ago, he had been deep inside the recesses of Hell Ifrit would've been afraid of, his mind, body, heart and soul held hostage by Chancellor Ardyn Izunia. Horrible truths were revealed in a world that knew only black and the gray stench of decay. But there he was, hurting, bleeding, but still smiling. Still determined to celebrate life. After it had almost been taken from him. He should've been sleeping, or at least resting, but no. Prompto's heart and mind returned to his photographs. Flashes of their time together. It may have been a form of therapy, but if it had been Ignis, there would be no pictures. No scrapbook. No memories of anything. The world would've been shut completely off, turned completely black, pushed far, far away. 

The chef bit his bottom lip, shaking his head all the while. A rare, sure sign of defeat. "And so many erroneously believe I'm strong," he murmured, his voice as quiet as the sleeping earth. It was folly to even attempt to comprehend what Prompto had gone through in Ardyn's clutches, but Ignis knew enough to know that Prompto's ordeal would have broken him. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't strong, wasn't anywhere near perfect, and certainly wasn't anywhere near divine (despite Noctis' theories on him being a miniature Astral). Not even Gladiolus knew of the cracks that ruined Ignis' perfect facade, but they were all focused on the wrong one. Prompto was the strong one, the perfect one, the one of divine blood and valor. 

No longer content with watching the photographer from afar, the chef quietly left their tent and approached Ardyn's ex-captive. The night encouraged him to step closer to the child of divinity with a cool, tender breeze kissed by apple. Apple cider, to be precise. Ever since Ignis had whipped up a batch to celebrate the first day of Autumn, Prompto had been in love with it. Bought oil that held apple cider's fragrance from Lestallum's market. The photographer worshipped everything he whipped up in his makeshift kitchen ("You're the best, Iggy, thanks!" "This kicks major ass, Ignis. When it comes to cooking, you rock!"), but his apple cider seemed to win a special place in the gunner's heart. When it first touched Prompto's lips, the look that lit up his face reminded Ignis of the enriching, breathtaking euphoria behind cooking, behind sharing your heart, sweat and tears with others. A sovereign offered the greatest riches wouldn't have been happier than the Argentum drinking Ignis Scientia's apple cider.

Ignis approached his friend as though he were approaching a rare creature, the most divine of Astrals. A creature that would flee at the mere glimpse of a disturbance. Nervousness settled in once the chef realized he was stepping on sacred ground. Earth kissed by gold, cider and a heart that had been through far too much. Prompto whirled around the moment his footsteps were heard, alarming Noctis' caretaker for a moment, but the warm, golden smile that lit up the Argentum's face calmed him.

"Hey there, Ignis. What's shakin'?"

Perfect, divine Ignis' voice was shy, soft, and radiant with awe. "I was just wondering about your late night activities. I assumed you'd be resting, but here you are, going through your pictures yet again. Do you not know the meaning of rest, little one?"

A nervous, fragile chuckle was the initial response. The more Prompto went on, the darker his cheeks grew, filling with Autumn's rich reds. "Nah, I'm fine. I've been meaning to fix up our photos from the Chocobo Cafe for a while now, and it's like you always say: 'there's no time like the present'. You're usually nagging Noct about training or whatever, but hey, I needed a pretty nice push, so I thought of you."

"Strange. I find myself thinking of you whenever I need a bit of encouragement."

The photographer's eyes widened, as though Ignis had spoken in an ancient, forgotten language. Taking a seat alongside the one kissed by the fragrance of apple cider, Ignis spoke in gentle tones. He looked upon the shocked face framed by their campfire, in awe of how the kaleidescope of oranges and reds painted the innocence. "When it comes to motivation, I find no better cure than the light in your eyes. From the moment I met you, you've been responsible for giving me the strength I needed to overcome all obstacles. The wisdom I needed to become a better man. You are still my lighthouse. You've been through a storm no creature should ever have to witness, yet here you are, even more stunning than you were before. Alive with the colors, the vivacity, of my favorite season."

...

"...so...um...is this some kind of joke or something? I mean, I know you're the last person to play jokes, but...um, am I, y'know, dreaming? Did I, somewhere along the line, fall into some strange dimension?"

Without giving Ignis even a second to answer, Prompto shot to his feet, photographs and scrapbook tossed aside. "Shiva's breath, that's EXACTLY what happened," he shrieked, hands balled into fists on top of his chest, eyes alive with panic. "That's TOTALLY what happened!"

"Prompto-"

"I fell down the rabbit hole and ended up in some super weird dimension where all of this weird stuff happens and doesn't make any sense! That's totally what's going on right now! I mean, how else can I explain the guy I've secretly been in love with for, like, EVER, saying such weird stuff?!"

Finding out the Chocobo's feelings towards him colored Ignis' face with the red of embarrassment. It was not without happiness and relief, each emotion powerful and electric, musical and soaring. "Calm down, little one," the chef pleaded, rising to his feet alongside his friend. "No one has fallen into anything! It's all right!"

Prompto whirled around on him defiantly, scooped up his scrapbook and hugged it. "Oh yeah?! How do I know you're telling the truth?! What if you're some weird doppleganger that kidnapped the REAL Ignis, and you're here to trick me?! Huh? Answer that, doppleganger!"

Warmth enveloped Ignis' eyes. "By the gods, and here I was thinking Noct would forever be a thorn in my side," he muttered, palms facing outward in surrender. "All right then, I'll humor you. How can I prove to you that I'm NOT a doppleganger?"

Holding his scrapbook as though it had suddenly transformed into a weapon, Prompto faced him with the light of rebellion. "Tell me something only the REAL Ignis would say," he ordered, hoping he sounded at least remotely menacing (but really wasn't any more menacing than a baby Chocobo's feather). "What's Noct's favorite veggie?"

"Come on, tiny one, please put more effort into this. Even the Gods know our darling prince loathes vegetables. Although I really wish he wouldn't."

The photographer persisted, still not convinced of his friend's innocence. His eyes captured the flare of the campfire, brightened with magical oranges, reds and yellows. The sense of the unfolding season. "What's Gladio's favorite Cup Noodle flavor?"

A soft sigh fell from the swordsman's lips. "Honestly, Prompto, you're the bloody limit. He doesn't fancy any particular one. He worships all of them. Allow me to share a truth you wouldn't expect me to hold. Perhaps that will soothe your fears. You enjoy pumpkin just as much as you enjoyed my apple cider. When you purchased pumpkin pastries at Lestallum's Autumn Festival, your eyes were as bright as the stars."

...

"How did you know I...? I mean, I was...I bought those when I was..."

Being watched from afar, by someone that had always cared for him. By someone that made him feel as though his worth exceeded that of the greatest jewels in the greatest kingdoms. By a beautiful, breathtaking stallion with eyes of fire and a heart of the warmest calm. By someone-

He had been in love with for months.

Prompto remembered that day, the day he and his soulmates journeyed to the Lestallum Market. The world was aglow with Autumn's newborn magic, dressed in sensual reds, playful oranges and energetic gold, filled with the scents and wonders of the many vendors filling Lestallum's streets. With his mind burdened by Noct's destined path that day, Prompto requested some time alone (by masking it as a desire to go on a photo-spree). He assumed he was alone, walking the streets among unknown faces and stories, but Ignis was there. Making sure not a single tear left his eye. Making sure he stayed safe.

Ignis was always there. Ignis had been there from the beginning.

The photographer bowed his head, eyes averted from the warm soul beside him. Only the crackling dance of their campfire walked through the following moments, but then Prompto spoke, his voice small and longing. Clutching a world of memories.

"Hey, um, Iggy?"

"Ah. So you no longer fear me. What good news."

"Um...you...uh...you wanna help me? W-w-w-with my pictures and s-s-stuff? I, um, I still got a bunch to put in my book, so I would totally super appreciate it. Unless, of course, you'd rather go back to sleep. I mean it's kinda late-I mean early-and you know, you guys kinda went through a lot back there."

Ignis' voice and eyes turned colder than Shiva's breath-as they usually did whenever Prompto took his already-low self esteem down another level. "Did you not endure the bulk of the ordeal?"

"W-w-well I...I...um, I'm-"

The ice remained in place. "Say you're 'fine' and I'll boil you alive. And you know me-idle threats I do not make."

"So do you, um...are you-"

Ignis could have frightened every last one of the Astrals. "Yes and no, I don't care about anything that filthy, cursed bastard said. As far as I'm concerned, he was nothing more than a horrid, appalling nightmare spouting off illogical babble."

...

"Does this mean I can hug you?"

"Of course it does, little one."

The chef drew the gunner into his arms, suddenly realizing how small Prompto was, how he was no different from the leaves that fell and graced the earth during the unfolding Autumn season. He realized how his friend smelled of the earth and its fruit, its magic and majesty, running a hand through Prompto's hair. The photographer melted into his arms, becoming even smaller, their chests falling and rising with the night's calming breeze. "You're still gonna help me with my pictures, right?" the Chocobo asked, his voice even softer than the night's wind, face graced with the season's rich crimson. 

Ignis cupped his friend's face, making it so their foreheads met. "Why wouldn't I? We'll clean up right after I kiss you, little Autumn flower."

Heartbeats quickened. Eyes closed as strong, warm hands caressed a blushing, trembling face. The sweet scent of cider met the sweet scent of earth and moon. The distance between them became smaller, then-

Their tent exploded.

"He did it," Noctis and Gladiolus said in unison, pointing at each other-with Ignis rolling his eyes all the while. He groaned about having to put up the spare tent and about being forced to keep witless morons for companions-

With Prompto on the floor all the while, dead from embarrassment.

Ah, well. Much better than seeing his heart broken into a million pieces.


End file.
